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Friday, June 25, 2010

Clocks Don't Talk

Not only is this story funny, it's to my gain that it worked out the way it did.....

Father's Day Morning: 6:15am. Woken up by the damn birds AGAIN, Will sails into our bedroom with his boundless energy. "Hi Mommy! It's morning time!! Can I sit on your bed? What do you want to do today? Can I have chocolate milk for breakfast?" And with that riccochet of toddler verbage, he was off and running into the living room.

Ugh. To have that kind of energy, I don't know if I'm jealous or just chagrined. It being Father's Day, I vowed to take care of it and see if he'd go back to bed. I woefully roused myself and threw on my robe, and left the sanctuary of my bedroom.

Me: "ok buddy, I'll make you a deal. I'll get you a cereal bar and some milk, and turn on the TV. See that clock there? It's says six-two-five right now. When it says seven-three-zero, you can come and get me."

He agrees easily, and I sleepily pour him the milk and open a cereal bar. I head back to bed and hubby says "that went well."

I awake to Sean's cries and glance at the clock. It's now 8:45. Huh. Why didn't Will come and get me? What the hell has he gotten himself into???" I whip open my bedroom door and there he is, sitting in the living room. He's brought a bin of toys onto the couch and is playing quietly.

Me: "Hey Buddy. Whatcha doing?"

Will: "My dinosaurs are having a breakfast campout!"

Me: "Thanks for letting Mommy and Daddy sleep a little while longer. How come you didn't get me when the clock said seven-three-zero?"